Pillow Nook Mga Nobela at Kwento

"Sign the contract. Produce an heir. And never question what happens in the dark." Cora Belmont was not supposed to be here. Her sister was the one meant to marry Roman Falcone — East Coast crime boss, untouchable, allegedly monstrous. Her family didn't give Cora a choice. They gave her a sedative. She woke up in silk sheets, with a contract on the pillow and a pen placed precisely against her lips. Sign it, or your family loses more than you. So Cora signs. She signs away her body, her autonomy, and any illusion she had about what marriage means in a world of men who treat women like ledger entries. What she doesn't sign away is her mind. And her mind begins keeping records. Because her husband is impossible. Some nights he is Roman Falcone — cold, brutal, exacting, who takes what he wants and leaves without a word. Other nights, someone comes to her bedroom who touches her like she is the only precious thing in a world of violence. Who whispers her name like a prayer. Who smells of sandalwood instead of gunsmoke. Cora tells herself she's losing her mind. She sets a camera. She watches the footage. And then a thunderstorm lights up the sky outside her window — and she sees both of them. Roman in the doorway, gun in hand, reeking of fresh blood. And Rocco Falcone — The Shadow, the ghost who was never supposed to exist — still in her bed. They are twins. They are equally dangerous. They are both completely obsessed with her. And when Cora tries to run, she discovers that one Falcone is impossible to escape. Two Falcones simply don't accept the concept of escape at all. The wrong vow was just the beginning.

“You shouldn’t have disobeyed me, Hazel.” His voice came out hard and husky and she thrived at the soothing undertone that sent chills down her spine, her pussy, already gaining lots of wetness. “I am sorry Daddy, baby girl needed some alone…” she tried to explain, but his next action shut her up. He flung her over the bed like she weighed nothing, her face pressing into the pillow, while her ass positioned into the perfect doggy style he craved for. “I am going to punish you so fucking well, momma. I am going to fuck you hard till you no longer feel your legs, momma. Hazel gulps down the hitches in her throat at the thought of his 9 inches-thick, cock riding her tight cunt, to pleasure. Without any warning, Hazel felt his dick tearing throw her, as he made one rough thrust. “Oh my fucking goodness….” her words trailed into a moan, while his hands found the most adore part of her body, her waist, Pulling her backward, he began to thrust hard, and with each thrust, he got rewarded with moans that made him want to do more! Hazel had just gained admission to her favorite university in the city of Washington, she is forced to live with her father's most trusted young friend all in the name of protection. Hazel eventually finds herself in the bed of the man she claims she hates, the one who is to protect her from the outside world, after one foreplay, Hazel and Axel refuse to keep their eyes off each other. However, it didn’t end up as just a Lustful feeling. Will their love stand the test of time, in a world where fans criticize whoever goes intimate with their idol?

"First time?" he asks, lowering his hand to my abdomen, his body tensing. I bite my lip, seeing his eyes flash with something dark. He pushes deeper inside me, and I wince. Pain shoots through me, but pleasure quickly follows, numbing me to the world. The sparks and tingles distract me from the discomfort. "So tight," he murmurs as he pulls out. "Please," I moan recklessly, knowing I should stop him but It feels so good. "Eager to feel my c**k," he growls as he thrusts back inside me, his voice makes me forget the pain. But I lose myself, existing only for the man inside me. As the thrusts cease, his ragged breaths send shivers down my spine. I press my forehead into the pillow, disoriented. "Mine..." He growls. Then Asher takes a deep breath, and he says the words that shatter my heart. "I, Asher Knight, Alpha of the Redwood Pack, hereby reject you, Alethea Weaver of BloodMoon pack as my mate." *** Alethea hasn't fully awakened her wolf. Her life takes a darker turn when her father forces her to be a breeder to Xavier, the Beta of the Bluemoon Pack. But when Xavier's jealous girlfriend threatens her life, Alethea has no choice but to run. Alethea is attacked but saved by a shadowy figure-Alpha Asher, knowing she is his fated mate. With her wolf still dormant, Alethea is unaware of the deep connection between them. Asher, torn between duty ends things. A brutal accident leaves Alethea with no memory of her past-and no idea that she's carrying Asher's child. As she rebuilds her life, hidden truths, and long-buried secrets begin to resurface. Will she uncover why Asher pushed her away? And as rival packs close in, will she discover her power before it's too late?

️ 18+ ONLY. If you are under 18, close this now. This book contains extremely explicit sexual content, taboo stepfather/stepdaughter dynamics, power play, and graphic erotic scenes. Strictly 18+ only. Read at your own risk. “Don’t make a sound,” he growled against my ear, his hand sliding between my thighs. “Not one sound, or I stop and we both know you don’t want me to stop.” He was right. God help me, he was right. Caden Voss is my stepfather. Forty-two, ruthless, built like sin and cold as steel. The kind of man who makes grown men flinch and panties drop without trying. He married my mother. And he has his fingers buried inside me while my mother sleeps down the hall. I came back home at twenty-one thinking I could handle him. Thinking the attraction was just a stupid crush I’d grown out of. But nothing prepares you for Caden Voss up close his voice, his hands, the way his eyes strip you naked before he’s touched a single inch of you. He fought it. Weeks of cold silences and hard stares and pretending he didn’t watch my mouth when I talked. Then one night he stopped pretending. Now he has me bent over his desk every chance he gets, hand wrapped in my hair, whispering filthy things against my skin that make me forget my own name. He knows exactly how to make me beg. Exactly how to stretch me open and fill me so deep I’m sobbing into the pillow trying not to wake the whole house. It’s wrong. It’s filthy. It’s the most alive I’ve ever felt. And I don’t want him to stop. Not even a little.